


The Last Day

by Vixens_thoughts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Tumblr Post, Hair Dyeing, Hogwarts Fifth Year, POV Albus Dumbledore, POV Draco Malfoy, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixens_thoughts/pseuds/Vixens_thoughts
Summary: This story is based on a tumblr post. Basically what would happen if Draco Malfoy decided he is done and decides to do whatever he wants for one day, his last day of freedom.





	The Last Day

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a fic prompt by parseltonquiq.
> 
> I want a fic where draco just decides that he's done.
> 
> he gives up trying to be who he's supposed to be and does exactly what he wants, not worrying about the consequences. he figures the war will kill him anyway, so why not go out with a bang? he says "fuck you" to snape when he tries to talk sense into him, he dyes his hair bright blue, he talks to hermione about a book he discovers they both love, he mouths off at his racists friends, he apologizes to hagrid and helps him clean up some dung. during dinner he strides up to the gryffindor table, grabs harry by the front of his robes, and pulls him into a searing kiss.
> 
> this can either end happily or angstily, i just want this. i want him to snap and decide to take his life into his own hands and regain control.
> 
> This story doesn't match the prompt exactly but is my spin on the basic idea. I hope you enjoy it.

Draco stirs awake slowly, he doesn’t want to wake up, doesn’t want to climb out of bed and face the world. Today is the last day of fifth year, well his last day. Reluctantly he opens his eyes, before pulling the letter he had received last week from under his pillow. His father’s elegant script flows across the paper, so full of promise and redemption, his own rather than Draco’s. With a snort he reads over it again even though by this point he has it memorized, however that doesn’t stop a small part of him from wishing that the words have changed or at least the hidden meaning behind them. _Shit,_ he curses in his head when once again he’s confronted with the fact that this really is his last day. Last day of being a child, last day of freedom, of having a fucking choice.

_Your mother will collect you at the end of the day from the headmaster’s office, you will have your bags packed and ready and you will behave as befitting a Malfoy when you come home._

_Yeah right,_ Draco thinks, as if he’s ever managed to live up to his father’s ridiculous expectations. It’s not like he hadn’t tried, and tried, and tried but nothing was ever good enough for his sire.

_It is time that you took your rightful place in this world and prove your loyalties by standing beside your family in these important times._

The words not overly shocking in themselves and similar to what his father has been telling him for years but he can read between the lines. He knows what his father is really saying and that is why he doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want it to be his last day at Hogwarts. _I don’t want to take the mark_ , he thinks, it’s not the first time he’s thought that but before it had still been a choice. It was something to worry about another day but he didn’t have any of those left. He would meet his mother, he would go home and he would be marked and then he would most likely die. Killed in a war he isn’t sure he still believes in, it had all made sense when he was younger and dumber. When he had taken every word his father said as the truth, as facts that no-one could disprove. Then he met Hermione Granger, a muggle born who is smart and quick and not a magic stealing burden. He met Ronald Weasley, who didn’t have a gallon to his name but always seemed to be happy regardless and then he met Potter. Harry Potter the boy who lived, who was nothing like he had been led to believe, instead he is everything Draco wants and more.

Groaning he closes his eyes and pulls his blanket over his head, childishly hiding from everything, as if life is a Bogart that would go away if he couldn’t see it. Cursing out loud he throws the blanket back and sits up, glaring down at the now rumpled letter still in his hand once more before he begins tearing it into shreds. The paper pieces littering his lap doing nothing to improve his mood, still angry he grabs his wand and vanishes the mess and wishes he could fix the mess he is in just as easily.

Frowning Draco tries to think, think of a plan to get out of this but there is nothing he can do. One day, that’s all he has and realising that a thought forms in his mind.

_Well, if this is my last day then I’m going to live it my way._

That decision made a smirk slips onto Draco’s face as he climbs out of his bed and pulling on his bathrobe he ignores his housemates as he heads to one of the other boys dorms. There is something he needs and he knows just who to talk to about getting it.

Returning to his dorm he once again refuses to answer his friends as they call out to him, instead he locks himself in the bathroom, adding a few wards to keep everyone out. Once he’s sure they can’t bother him, he pulls the box of muggle hair dye out of his bathrobe and grins. As he waits for the dye to work he imagines everyone’s faces as he enters the great hall for breakfast. Someone, likely the Gryffindors will say something insulting but Draco doesn’t care. The words his mantra for his last day, he doesn’t care about anything anymore because it doesn’t matter, nothing matters.

Washing the dye off he studies his reflection, the bright blue of his hair momentarily shocking him. Reaching up he runs his hand through it, the strands still damp flatten against his head. He reaches for his gel only to stop; looking at his reflection again he shakes his head letting his hair fall forward over his forehead. It hangs over one eye, naturally wavy without his gel and straightening charms but he leaves it to dry that way and exits the bathroom.

“What the hell!” Crabbe exclaims, but soon his voice is joined by Draco’s other roommates as they all look at Draco with their eyes bulging.

“What the fuck are you staring at,” Draco snaps at them as he begins getting dressed.

“Your hair is blue,” Goyle says and Draco rolls his eyes at him stating the obvious.

“Yes, well done, would you like a house point for working that out,” Draco sasses while turning up his nose at the school uniform. Today he wants to wear something different, closing his eyes he tries to remember what clothes he’d seen the muggle-borns wearing. Their clothing seemed much more practical and comfortable than the robes wizards wore. Blinking his eyes Draco is pulled from his thoughts by Blaise's hand landing on his shoulder.

“Look, if you’ve been pranked then I’ll help you get back at whoever did it. I have a nasty hex or two up my sleeve that I have been dying to try out,” Blaise promises with a dark look. Draco pushes his hand away before turning to face him directly.

“No it was not a prank, I fancied a change today. Actually I want to change lots of things today, so thanks but no thanks,” Draco tells the dark skinned boy before he draws his wand and transfigures his uniform into a pair of black jeans and a blue t shirt that matches his hair. Smiling he pulls on the clothing, while everyone stares speechless at his actions. Letting his tie hang loose around his neck he tugs on his outer robes and heads out into the common room.

Once again he’s met with loud exclamations and wide eyed stares, Draco doesn’t react. Slowly he makes his way down the stairs and through the students who part for him as he walks forward. Outside in the cool air of the dungeons Draco lets out a deep sigh, he’s beginning to question his decision but he’s come too far to back out now. _I’m turning into a bloody Gryffindor;_ he muses as he steels his spine and heads to the great hall alone. He refuses to be afraid, refuses to stop now, reminding himself that this is his last day, his last chance.

Still despite his internal pep talk his hands are shaking when he steps into the hall, shoving them in his pockets he keeps his head up as he strides to the Slytherin table. Reaching it he pauses as a thought enters his head, smirking he thinks, _why not?_ Turning he heads over to the Ravenclaw table and sits down. The girl next to him stares at him as if he’s lost his mind before she gets up and leaves sitting at the other end of the table. Everyone else around him shuffles away from him and Draco can’t help himself, he starts laughing. He does hold back and lets the sound ring out around him. He would have expected that from the Hufflepuffs, who knew Ravenclaws are just as soft.

Pretending not to hear the whispers around him, Draco begins filling his plate until he’s distracted by someone sitting beside him. Turning he raises an eyebrow preparing to defend himself only to be met with the crazy Lovegood girl.

“Hello Draco, did the wrackspurts tell you to sit here?” she asks and Draco’s mouth drops open as he tries to think how to answer. Lovegood continues to stare at him patiently waiting for a reply.

“Um, I don’t think so. I just decided to try something new,” Draco says without any sarcasm, too thrown by her weird question to think of something witty to say.

“Oh, it’s just they are attracted to the colour blue so I wondered. Your hair looks very nice that colour, it matches your aura, which is bad I guess. Blue auras usually mean a person is sad. Are you sad Draco?” Lovegood asks and again Draco isn’t sure what to say to her strange rambling. Frowning he thinks about her question and slowly his brow lifts and he smiles.

“No, I’m not sad today. Thank you for the compliment,” he answers and Lovegood nods and begins filling her own plate. Baffled but pleased at her friendliness Draco starts eating his food in silence while the noise around him grows louder. He knew he wouldn’t be left alone for long, so he isn’t surprised to hear Pansy’s irritating voice cut through the din and makes him wince.

“What the hell are you doing Draco, get away from that loony bint and come sit at the Slytherin table where you belong,” she demands and he’s grateful that she hasn’t resorted to trying to physically drag him away, for now anyway.

“No thanks I’m fine here,” Draco states flippantly, waving her away with his hand.

“What Draco-,”

“No! Go away Pansy, your voice grates on my nerves and I’m sick of listening to it,” Draco snaps giving her his coldest glare. Her face turns red before she begins shrieking, her voice so high that Draco can’t make out the words.

“Oh fuck this,” he says abandoning his breakfast he rises and walks past her, exiting the hall he decides to head to his first class, potions.

He waits until everyone else has arrived and entered the class before he steps inside; he makes it two steps before Snape calls his name.

“Yes professor?” he asks, standing straight he gives the potion master a bored look.

“What happened to your hair?” Snape asks his eyes darting towards Potter and his friends in disapproval.

“I wanted a change,” Draco answers sharply with a glare. He knows that Snape is hoping for an excuse to punish the Gryffindors but he won’t get one from Draco, not today.

“It is unacceptable,” Snape says turning his annoyance on Draco and drawing his wand he waves it at Draco but his hair remains bright blue.

“Muggle hair dye sir,” Draco explains with a smirk when Snape looks momentarily surprised. Glowering Snape snaps at his to take his seat which Draco does happily and the class continues as normal. It is so normal in fact that it only takes twenty minutes before Snape is shouting at Longbottom for messing up his potion and Draco has finally had enough, as everyone else ducks their heads and says nothing.

“Will you shut up; maybe Longbottom would be able to make a potion successfully if you stopped screaming at him and instead teach him how to do it. You are after all a teacher or am I wrong sir?” Draco asks his tone snarky as it echoes in the small room. Draco turns when he hears someone snort a laugh and looking over he sees Weasley covering his mouth. Potter sat beside him has managed not to laugh but he’s grinning ear to ear and Draco smiles back when he catches his eye.

“Mr. Malfoy, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I will be seeing you every evening from now until the end of the school year for detention,” Snape growls at him. Draco lets the smile slip off his face and giving his head of house a sad look he slowly shakes his head.

“No you won’t sir,” Draco tells him in a whisper before turning away and returning to brewing his own potion. Snape doesn’t say anything until the class finishes, calling out to Draco to stay behind.

“Yes sir?” Draco asks and waits for the lecture he expects to get.

“What is going on Mr. Malfoy and don’t even attempt to lie to me,” Snape demands and Draco is tempted to tell him the truth but he knows where Snape's loyalties lie so instead he shrugs his shoulders.

“I just wanted to try something new sir,” Draco replies before heading towards the classroom exit.

“I wanted to try being happy,” he whispers as he steps into the empty corridor the door firmly shut behind him.

 

Nothing else happens until after lunch when he has defence against the dark arts with the Umbitch. He hadn’t meant to snort so loudly at her bullshit explanation of werewolves.

“Do you have something to say Mr. Malfoy?” she asks him in her sweetly sick tone, which is if possible worse than Pansy’s banshee like voice.

“Actually yes. I would like to say that you are a terrible teacher who wouldn’t know the difference between an imp and pixie even if it bit you on your ugly face,” Draco drawls as he flicks his quill back and forth under his chin, enjoying the mildly ticklish sensation. “oh and pink is not your colour. It make you look ghastly, which you are but there really is no need to advertise it,” Draco finishes and while she’s still gaping at him, he stands up and walks out of her class whistling a little tune to himself.

 

 _Why didn't I do this sooner_ , Draco asks himself as he walks around the grounds letting the weak spring sun warm his skin. A sound to his left pulls him from his musing and he glances over to see the half giant shoving dung, he watches for a moment before making his way closer.

“Hello sir,” he says timidly, feeling unsure now he is stood next to the massive man.

“Malfoy, what are you doin’ out ‘ere?” he asks and Draco wonders if he should tell the truth or not.

“I didn’t want to waste my time in defence against the dark arts,” Draco admits looking away and nibbling at his lip for a second. “Um, sir….I wanted to apologise for the things I said last year, you know, the stuff Skeeter put in the paper,” Draco mumbles, jumping back when a hand reaches towards him. Shutting his eyes tight he feels in land on his shoulder and manages not to collapse under the weight of it.

“No problem, don’t suppose you’d mind givin me a hand with this,” he says nodding his head towards the pile of dung he is shoving into a wheelbarrow.

“Where do you want it?” Draco asks, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the smell.

“Over the garden, helps them grown you know.” Draco didn’t know but he guesses the groundskeeper would know something like that. Drawing out his wand, he points it towards the pile preparing to levitate it over to the garden and be done with it, only to be stopped by a loud shout.

“No, no, no, ya can’t use magic. Messes with the plants if you do that,” Hagrid explains and Draco quickly puts his wand away. Gingerly he takes the shovel handed to him and with one last glance at the man next to him he begins shovelling the dung. He’s not very good at it at first, it’s not like he’s ever had to shovel anything before but there is something satisfying about using his hands and not his wand. It makes it feel like more of an accomplishment and when Hagrid gives him a warm smile and tells him ‘well done’ he feels his chest swell with pride. Looking back at the castle Draco’s stomach gives a loud rumble, _it’s probably dinner time by now_ , he thinks.

The day is almost over and his mother will be here to pick him up soon. Thanking Hagrid, Draco makes his way back to the castle, his back aches and his hands are covered in blisters but he smiles anyway. Casting several cleaning charms he finally feels clean enough to step into the great hall for the last time.

Looking around he tries to decide which table to sit at, his friends are watching him but none of them wave him over. Most likely they think he’s lost his mind and are cutting ties with him so that it doesn’t reflect badly on them. Finally he makes a decision and heads for the Gryffindor table, he’s been acting like one all day so why not join them for his last meal as a free man. Dropping down beside Granger Draco gives the shocked girl a small smile.

“What are you reading?” he asks, his hands curling into fists under the table and half expecting to be hexed or maybe get another slap around the face.

“The real Morgana. It’s quite fascinating to see how she is viewed by wizards and witches compared to in muggle stories,” she answers and Draco lets out the breath he was holding.

“I agree, I honestly don’t know why they painted her to be the villain while Merlin has gone down in history as one of the greats. I’d say it was because he was a Slytherin and knew how to charm people but he really was an amazing wizard in his own right. However Morgana deserved better than to be cast as a villain just because the muggles didn’t understand what she was trying to achieve,” Draco rambles before he realises what he’s doing and closes his mouth. He can feel his cheeks heating as he blushes.

“Sorry,” he says glancing past her to see Weasley and Potter staring at him. Scanning the table he can see that everyone is staring at him, however unlike when he had sat at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables their looks feel more threatening. He is half ready to get up and back away slowly when Granger speaks up.

“Exactly. Finally someone who understands, I’ve tried talking to these two but they don’t care but I think it’s important that Morgana was given such a bad name. It might actually be because of how history’s views about her that almost all witches in muggle stories are seen as evil while wizards are often given more of a good image. As old men filled with wisdom which is also very unfair and untrue,” Granger says excitedly, her book resting on the table as she waves her hands with frustration. Smiling Draco relaxes and continues discussing the differences in muggle and wizard literature regarding notable figures.

He’s chuckling at something Potter said a moment ago, about now there being two know it all’s at their table, when Dumbledore comes over and tells him that he has been called home.

“An emergency I have been told, your mother is waiting for you in my office Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore says and Draco’s heart breaks, his smile vanishing in an instant. _No_ , his mind screams as his eyes grow damp, _I’m not ready yet_. Blinking to clear his them he slowly climbs to his feet, head bowed low because he knew that this was how today was going to end, knew it couldn’t last. He looks around one last time and his eyes lock with Potter’s who is frowning at him with confusion.

“Fuck it,” Draco snarls before he reaches out and grabbing Harry’s robes he pulls him to his feet before covering Harry’s slightly open mouth with his own. He presses his lips firmly against Potter’s, letting his tongue slip into Potter’s mouth to taste him and it is better than he ever imagined. Ending the kiss sooner than he would have liked Draco takes in Potter’s shocked expression.

“If I live, if we both live then you can kill me for that,” Draco says softly before he leans forward and placing his mouth next to Potter’s ear he whispers, “I love you.”

Letting go of Potter Draco spins on his heels and strides out of the hall, the tears he’s held back beginning to run down his cheeks and he swipes at them with his sleeve. Malfoy’s don’t cry and he will not shame his mother by meeting her with red eyes and tearstained cheeks.

 

The headmaster says nothing as he walks beside Draco and leads him up to his office, when the door opens and Draco sees his mother he stands up tall, chin high and his expression fixed in one of boredom.

“Draco, your hair,” his mother says and a surge of panic goes through him making it hard to keep his face blank.

“Mother I...” he starts but he can’t think of a convincing lie to tell her.

“Well it’s a start but you’ll have to do more than that to disguise yourself but that can wait until we’re gone,” his mother says as she steps forward and pulls him into a hug.

“Mother I don’t--,” Draco says confused only to be cut off by his mother.

“Not now my dear, I’ll explain once we are somewhere safe. You’re sure it’s safe?” his mother asks turning to address Dumbledore.

“Yes, you’ll both be safe there,” he answers cryptically with a nod and a twinkle in his eye. Draco’s head whips back and forth between them wondering what’s going on but he doesn’t get a chance to ask as he is pushed towards the fireplace. His mother throws a handful of floo powder into the flames and drags Draco along with her as she steps in, the address she shouts isn’t the manor and then they are gone.

 

 

Dumbledore smiles as the flames slowly turn from green to red, moving he sits down at his desk and picks up a quill to begin some paperwork when Harry flies into his office. Harry’s eyes are wide as they scan the room and Dumbledore knows what, or in this case who, he is looking for.

“Sir, where’s Malfoy?” Harry asks slightly out of breath, his tone desperate and pleading. Dumbledore offers him a seat but Harry refuses, so he steeples his fingers and looks at Harry over the top of his glasses.

“Mr. Malfoy is somewhere safe, as is his mother. I’m sure you will see him again Harry but not yet I’m afraid,” he explains and isn’t surprised when Harry frowns at his words, the annoyance clear in his expression and body language, as he fists his hands.

“What do you mean? Where are they?” Harry shouts and Dumbledore wishes he could tell him but not yet, for now there are more important things to do.

“I can’t tell you that my boy, but I promise that he is away from harm and you will see him again when it is safe to do so,” he reasons calmly and sees the fire dim in Harry’s glare as he clenches his jaw.

“Thank you sir,” Harry bites out before he storms out slamming the door behind him. Dumbledore shakes his head at Harry’s behaviour, _to be young and in love_ , he thinks before chuckling and returning to his work.


End file.
